News in Vibrant Hues
by Squirrela
Summary: Charlie proves that he is not perfect, but it is all so exciting! A holiday oneshot.


Charlie was in a hurry. Not stopping to look where he was going, he bolted through the door of the Inventing Room, the cry of "Willy!" on his lips. Small wonder then, that he lost time by almost falling over the form of one of the Inventing Room Oompa-Loompas.

"I'm sorry sir," cried Charlie, as he looked around the room, in the vain hope that he might see his mentor. "I was looking for Willy, have you seen him?"

The Oompa-Loompa frowned. Surely the boy knew better than to rush into the Inventing Room by this point. Anything could have been happening! A mere half hour ago, a vast vat of boiling sugar had been sat where the boy now stood. That might have lead to nasty burns.

"So I was hearing, young master, none of us are deaf in here," Sandrach replied, with a rich sarcasm. Charlie began to wonder if his cheeks were aflame, as he held himself still with effort. Sandrach continued on, "unfortunately, I have not seen Willy all day. I'm afraid you shall have to look elsewhere, and kindly, walk!"

He threw his hands up in frustration as Charlie bolted out again, calling an apology as he went.

"I'm sorry, I'm in a hurry..." With a grimace of distaste, Sandrach returned to his work, attempting to drown out the echoing calls for Willy as he did so. Idiotic younglings were not his responsibility, and he was most relieved about that fact. Doubly so on occasions like this where the hyperactive teen just wouldn't stop to listen. The crash, when it came, would be catastrophic. There was no way he wanted to be anywhere near when it landed _._ Sandrach made a mental note to go nowhere near the suites for the rest of the day.

Meanwhile, Charlie rushed towards the office, hoping that he might find Willy there. But as he burst in, voice raised to call out his mentors name, he realised that the only person inside was a scowling James. He was on the telephone, and waved Charlie off with a sharp flick of his hand. Realising his mistake, Charlie shut the door behind him, being careful to avoid making another sound, shivering in dismay as he heard James apologising for the noise. It was so easy to forget that the building he now called his home was also a business.

A flush of embarrassment arose in his belly. There was no way that he could avoid being told off about that misdemeanour. It sometimes seemed to Charlie that he couldn't do anything right. Some weeks he seemed to be told off every day. This scared him. What if Willy decided he just wasn't worth the trouble? Looking down at the ground, his blood froze. There at his feet was a puddle of muddy water. As he looked along the corridor he had just dashed through, Charlie noted that clumps of mud were interspersed by mini-rivulets that must surely lead one through the maze of corridors that Charlie had darted along in his eagerness to find Willy.

With a sigh of despondency, Charlie sank down on his haunches and buried his head in his knees. He was right. He couldn't get anything right! Charlie bit his lip in an effort to stem the threatening tears, as he sank to the ground. Life had seemed so great a mere half hour ago. His Mom had issued an invitation to Willy to come to the family Christmas meal this year. James was going to join his family for the Christmas period, and Mom felt that it wouldn't be right for Willy to spend the day on his own. That news had sent Charlie's spirits soaring. Willy with them for Christmas? He had been dreaming about that possibility ever since they had moved into the factory, three years before. Mom had never considered the idea before, and had reprimanded Charlie for suggesting it. Now the suggestion had come from her though, making Charlie want to get the details arranged before she changed her mind.

If that wasn't enough, the football team he had joined had given him an award at the end of their last practice before the holidays. This congratulated him on being the most improved player in the middle group for this session. Charlie had always hoped that he would be given one of the awards, but there were always others who were better than he was. Charlie had grown used to dealing with disappointment, as each term passed without him gaining one of those coveted awards. Then he had been given one. The smile of joy had threatened to split Charlie's face in two. He had to share this news with Willy. And then he had spoiled it all. He had rushed to the factory, slamming the gate behind him so fast it had jumped off the latch again. The door, he now realised, he hadn't stopped to close, had swung open, letting cold rain water blow into the entrance hall. In his hurry, neither of these facts had imposed upon his awareness, but now, icy fingers of dread were starting to make their way across his previously warm back.

Then, as if to back up his dread, an almost painful grip took hold of his shoulder, pulling him up to standing. Charlie looked up into Willy's face. An incandescent rage filled the eyes that Charlie usually associated with compassion. There was nothing soft or caring about them now. Merely a cold, hard fury that seemed to paint the usual sky blue colour with hues of grey.

The fuming man gestured to the corridor, pulling Charlie's eyes towards it again. Now he knew that the mess was there, he took the results of his mad dash in with greater detail. The mud was splattered all over the floor; the puddles of water that must have streamed off his jacket as he ran through the building, spreading until the corridor was more like a stream than a place for people to walk; in short, the destruction he had left in his wake, as he dashed so heedlessly through the building.

"You didn't happen to traverse the production corridors as you bucketed through the factory, did you?" The ice in those tones tore holes in Charlie's remaining composure, and his face crumpled as he tried to avoid giving in to the threatening tears. Swallowing noisily, Charlie returned his attention to the chocolatier.

"I'm sorry Mr Wonka. When would you like us to move out? Is it alright if we stay until after Christmas and New Year?"

The startling question rocketed Willy out of his all consuming anger. The hand gentled on Charlie's shoulder. The face softened. The eyes grew warmer.

"Don't be so melodramatic Charlie!" Willy scolded. "No one said anything about you having to move out," Willy pointed out in tones that lacked the cold fury of his previous pronouncement.

Charlie wasn't having any of it at this moment. "But I've spoiled everything. I just make trouble. You can't want me here. I'm more bother than I'm worth!"

Willy sighed. What had Charlie been eating today? Had he got at some of the experimental candies that had been causing riots amongst the Oompa-Loompa taste testers, or was something else going on? "I told you to stop being melodramatic," he reminded Charlie, a slight warning present in his tones once more. "You are not more trouble than you are worth. You have made a mess, and you need to clear it up. You need to temper your excitement by remembering that your actions impact on the Oompa-Loompas. Imagine my horror when I began to feel a chill in the air, and upon locating the source, discovered an open door, in December no less, rather than a broken heater. Upon following the trail of near destruction, I discover that the mess goes through rooms which we use to make candies we wish to sell. And there is water and mud all over floors where Oompa-Loompas are carrying boxes of things we wish to sell, which could cause them to trip.

"I also came across Sandrach who told me that you screamed into the Inventing Room, as if it was your beloved football pitch, nearly fell over him, and then disappeared again, still traveling at high speeds, I assume, from his report about your demands regarding my location, in your eagerness to find me.

"Charlie... if you had run into that room in that fashion an hour before, you would have run straight into a vat of boiling sugar. You could have seriously hurt yourself ... I don't know what I'd do if you got hurt running around the factory like that, Charlie. You are too important to me to let you continue doing things that could lead you to thoughtlessly injure yourself, or others."

Charlie, who had been withering inside at the way Willy was laying the results of his thoughtlessness in front of him, suddenly found himself looking up at Willy in confusion. No matter what the man had said, he was sure that this confrontation was going to lead to him being fired from being Willy's apprentice. Given how poorly he was behaving, _s_ omeone else would be chosen as heir. Charlie knew this, like he knew that the sky was blue. It was the other children's poor behaviour that meant that they hadn't been invited to be Willy's heir after all, therefore, since he was behaving badly, he wasn't worth the job either. To have Willy tell him that Willy cared about Charlie too much to let him continue on the way he had been, caused him to gasp in shock.

"Still don't believe that I want you to stay here then, Charlie?" Willy asked, lips quirking up in amusement.

"But I behaved badly," Charlie explained. "When the other kids behaved badly, you knew they were wrong for the position. So it makes sense that when I behave badly, you would have to fire me as well."

Willy paused as he digested this logic. "The others behaved badly by not listening to what I, as the adult in charge, told them. By all accounts, you were merely thoughtless, and too keen to find me to pay any attention to what you were doing. When one has done wrong, one has to deal with the consequences of their actions. The other children went through difficult experiences due to their bad behaviour. You... well, you are going to have to clean up after yourself. And then the two of us will have to have a chat about what it means to live in a building that is also a functioning business, and more about what happened in this particular instance, so that we can avoid a repetition of the events of the day.

"In the meantime, why don't you tell me what has got you so worked up? I know you wanted to see me desperately about half an hour ago, so what happened?"

This was all it took for Charlie's spirits to bound up to the ceiling again, and within minutes he was talking nineteen to the dozen, in an attempt to bring Willy up to date with his exciting afternoon. Willy smiled as he listened to the excited chatter of the boy. Hopefully the afternoon had been rescued, despite the long and tiring job that now awaited Charlie once he had finished his explanation. Then Willy could return to the jobs he had been attending to, when the plummeting temperature had called his attention elsewhere.

The memory of the investigation he had immediately begun when he noticed that the Oompa-Loompas were shivering rose with crystal clarity to the top of his mind. It was almost like he was reliving the experience. Abandoning the tasks he was involved in. Checking the heating system, his heart stopping when he discovered that it was functioning perfectly. Following the icy breeze to discover the open door. Following the trail of mud and water through some of the most sensitive areas of the factory, and eventually into the sacred territory of the inventing room. Hearing the report from Sandrach, then following the trail of mud all the way to the office. There, to spot Charlie sat on the floor, muddy puddle surrounding the boy... He froze, a statue of icy fury as he raged inwardly at the destruction, however temporary, that had been visited upon his factory. That his apprentice, the one he took in and nurtured, should show such a lack of care for his home and his friends. Then, Charlie's despondency as he asked Willy, without any emotion whatsoever, when he and his family should move out... The suggestion, jarring Willy out of his anger, had almost made Willy weep. Didn't Charlie realise how important his presence was to Willy yet? Anyone could make a mistake. In fact, everyone needed to. It was how people grew. Willy would have been concerned if Charlie hadn't made mistakes occasionally.

Then, having heard the boys momentous news, and accepted the invitation to spend Christmas with the boy's family, with a stifled grimace of distaste - Charlie would be devastated if he didn't accept the invitation, and would never believe that Willy forgave him - Willy looked out the cleaning supplies that Charlie would need to repair the mess he had made. Sometimes having an apprentice was a distraction, but most of the time it was a joy.


End file.
